


Stop Screaming At Me

by 1780AWintersBall



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Addiction, Alcoholism, Alex just needs somebody to LOOOOOOOOOVE, Alexander's in a bad place, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Burr is HORRIFYING, Burr might have to start on his threats, Burr needs screen time, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, JOHN!, John stop, Laf doesn't deserve the shade I'm throwing on him, M/M, Not really in this one, Schuyler sisters will come back, Schuylers one day, Somewhere, Sorry Not Sorry, Sorry peps!, Thomas's view, Washingdad, Washington's there, drug deals, oh well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-01-31 03:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12666912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1780AWintersBall/pseuds/1780AWintersBall
Summary: Thomas has had enough of Alexander and his constant screaming matches, and wishes they'd just stop. Finally, he's had enough, and ends it.





	1. Chapter 1; Done With You

Every day. They’d made it a daily ritual.

  Walk into class, spot the other, start snide remarks. Things escalate, it becomes a screaming match, George Washington (their teacher and principal) gets involved. He lets them off with a warning that only lasts till midnight. Rinse, wash, repeat.

  Thomas Jefferson was getting tired of it. He was tired of being angry and emotionally drained all the time, tired of seeing Alexander Hamilton’s angry, non-stop face all the time, tired of seeing the way Hamilton’s friends would whisper behind his back and give him dirty looks. Tired of James Madison’s panic-attack-ready words at the end of the day.

  So, one day, the screaming got so intense that Thomas ended it. He stood up, which silenced everyone in the room, and strode out of said room. On his way out, he pushed past Washington, who was just about to silence everyone himself. He gave Thomas an odd look, then Thomas started his walk down the hallway.

  He heard yelling behind him, probably coming from Washington himself, then the rapid sound of running feet approaching him. Thomas made his best efforts to ignore whoever was coming to him.

  “Jefferson!” yelled Hamilton’s voice from somewhere behind Thomas. Thomas still kept up his efforts of faux ignorance. “Jefferson, wait!”

  The smaller man slid in front of Thomas, the taller of which rolling his eyes at Hamilton’s move, and forced them both to stop walking. He looked hesitant, so Thomas gave him a good second to collect his thoughts. “What do you so desperately want, Hamilton?”

  “I-” Hamilton clenched his jaw, then burst forth with a flurry of words. “I’m sorry, okay? I’ve been in a really bad place lately, and I needed to take out my thoughts and feelings on someone, and you’ve always said that you hate me, so you’ve been the easiest one to do that to, and my friends are just making it worse, because none of them know what to do, I kind of want to do something into shocking them into realising, and I don’t have any parents I can tell this to, and Washington would be on my case real bad if I told him, so I’m sorry if I’ve pushed you too far today, I’m sorry, and-”

  Thomas put up a hand. “Hold up.”

  He was confused about the apology, and was really wondering what made him so open so suddenly. Surely, that small burst of yelling from Washington hadn’t been that bad? Though, Washington never,  _ ever _ yelled…

  “Are you okay, Hamilton?”

  Hamilton blinked owlishly, then seemed to realise what he’d said. “O-oh, um, yeah, I’m… uh, I’m fine.”

  Thomas put his hands on his hips. “Really? ‘Cause I feel like you’re bottling up something, and I, of all people, would know exactly how that feels.”

  “Erm… hey, why do you care so much, Jefferson?” Hamilton scowled.

  “Just Thomas,” replied Thomas, trying to tread lightly. If Hamilton was really as unstable as he said he was, which was actually quite believable, seeing as how he put so much emotion and meaning behind everything he screamed at Thomas, then Thomas didn’t want to be the one to send him flying over the edge. Lafayette would kill him with a finely sharpened sabre.

  “Um, okay, Thomas… why do you care?”

  “Because you just spilled your heart out to me for really no reason,” said Thomas matter-of-factly. “You’ve obviously been waiting for someone to actually listen. Well, here I am. Hamilton- Alexander, believe it or not, I have human feelings, and I care about if one of the people I see on a regular basis is going to do something drastic.”

  Alexander stood for a second, as though contemplating what Thomas said, then spoke as though just voicing his thoughts. “You know what would really shock them? Really get them going? You know what would really make them think I’d lost it?”

  Thomas wasn’t really sure where this was going, but as long as Hamilton didn’t go running back to class or to the bathroom too quickly, then all was good. “What?”

  “Thomas Jefferson, will you go on a date with me?”

  Thomas stood for a second, processing Hamilton’s words. “...What?”

  “You said you wanted to help, right?” asked Hamilton, as though calculating every word. “Well, why don’t we get to know each other? Then, if you want to break up, it’d be fine, and my friends might actually see that what they’re doing is of no help at all. I… I just don’t want them to keep doing what they do, I don’t want them to spend money on me, to lend me their couches all the time, to take me and use me as a sob story for everyone else. I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t, so would you be at least willing to give it a try?”

  Thomas thought for a second. What did he have to lose? If Hamilton was willing to do this, he was probably willing to do anything. That ‘anything’ was what Thomas was trying to avoid. And Hamilton did say that if, after some time, Thomas did want to break up, then it’d be fine, so this arrangement didn’t really need to be permanent, just a solution to some bad times. Yet again, what did he have to lose?

  Finally, Thomas came up with and answer. “Yeah, sure. Let’s give it a try.”

  Hamilton’s (or Alexander, now) smile was worth whatever crazy thing Thomas had just signed up for. It could have lit up a room, it was so bright, and the way it covered his entire face, fully taking over his eyes, was magical.

  That night, Alexander took Thomas to his small, ramshackle home.

  They’d broken the news that they were dating, and immediately James had said, “If this ship goes down in flames, I’m not the one who’s going to be scuba diving for any remains, just so you know, Thomas.”

  That was  _ such _ a  _ good omen _ that Thomas couldn’t help but feel a sinking feeling of dread settle in his stomach. The Schuyler sisters had made some powerful threats, especially Angelica, basically saying that if he broke Alexander’s heart, there would be hell to pay. Of course, Alexander’s three best friends, John Laurens, Hercules Mulligan, and Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette, Marquis de Lafayette (or just Lafayette, and who was also Thomas’s friend) had given some very sincere threats. But that wasn’t the worst of it. No, the worst of it actually came from Burr. Aaron Burr, the most quiet, most collected person Thomas knew, gave horrifying threats.

  “Thomas, come, sit with me,” he’d said calmly at the beginning of World Politics. Burr gave off a strong air of danger, and Thomas knew he was in for a trip.

  Almost as soon as Thomas had sat down, out of the eyeline of the teacher, Burr had grabbed Thomas by the collar and held Thomas’s face one centimeter from his own. “If you touch Alexander in any way that he doesn’t condone, I will hunt you down, cut you up into ribbons with a sharpened rapier, feed your remains to four rowdy bulls, take your blood, and use it to lace my wine with. If you so much as say one word that makes him feel bad, which I will know about, I know how to read him, the I will force you into a small cage full of bees and wasps, gather your bloody, pustule remains, and give them to a butcher to sell as normal back bacon. I bet you don’t think I will follow through with these threats, but I swear to whatever higher power there is, Thomas Jefferson, don’t push me.”

  Then, Burr gave a small, calm smile, as though nothing had happened, and was almost immediately back to listening to the teacher and taking notes. “I’d recommend you listen, now,” he said, “because no one’s going to do those notes for you.”

  Thomas shivered at remembering Burr’s threat as he and Alexander got out of the car.

  Thomas had noted that Alexander lived in one of the more poor parts of the city. His home was far from big, and it seemed, from the outside, that it could have been a drug den, had the sign of  _ NO TRESPASSING  _ on his lawn not been there. The air along the community smelled like tobacco and car exhaust, and Thomas wondered how anyone could live in such an environment.

  “You cold?” asked Alexander with a hint of worry in his voice.

  Right.  _ Boyfriends _ . That was going to be hard to get used to.

  “Uh, no, sorry, just thinking about Burr,” replied Thomas honestly. Might as well be honest, no reason to lie outside of the screaming matches and the classroom, really.

  Alexander laughed. “Yeah, I get that! Aaron was very pleased with his threats. He’d told me them right after your class. I can only imagine the look on your face!”

  Thomas sighed, but reveled in Alexander’s laughter. That’s the whole reason he’d signed up to this death trap that was a relationship. He wanted to see Alexander happy, even just for a few weeks. He knew they were both rushing in, but the happier Alexander was, the better life would be.

  Finally, Alexander opened his door, letting Thomas in.

  In there, too, it smelled like cigarette smoke, mingled with other drugs and alcohol. Thomas wrinkled his nose at the smell, but Alexander didn’t seem to notice it. He strolled in, picked up something off the counter, and said over his shoulder, “Well, make yourself comfortable, I’ll be back in a few seconds.”

  “H-hey, Alexander,” Thomas put a hand on Alexander’s shoulder.

  The latter looked up, his eyes tired. “Yeah, Thomas? By the way, you can just call me Alex, if you want, since we’re gonna be, you know, together?”

  “Uh, yeah, okay,” Thomas shook his head, “what’re you doing with that?”

  He pointed at whatever was in Alexander’s hand.

  “Oh, this?” he asked, as he raised his hand. In his palm was a lighter and a packet of cigarettes. They were Winston reds, and Thomas could see, behind Alexander’s shoulder, that there were at least six more packets. The one in his hand seemed to be half gone, already.

  Thomas stared at Alexander’s hand, then looked him in the eyes. “You smoke? When have you ever done something so… just, since when did you smoke?”

  Alexander rolled his eyes, then took out a cigarette, lighting the end of it and sticking it in his mouth. “Yes, I smoke. I have for a while now, not that anyone seems to notice or care.”

  “But- Alexander, I care!” replied Thomas incredulously. “You can’t be smoking, you’re going to get lung cancer! How long have you been, I dunno, going out to take a few drags?”

  “Thomas, chill!” sighed Alexander, taking in the smoke of the cigarette. “I’ve only used them here, in my own house, so that no one else needs to smell it, it’s fine. And I’ve been smoking for a while. There’s nothing wrong with it, I’m not going to die!”

  Thomas took a deep, shuddering breath, as his lungs worked around the chemicals in the air. He filed the cigarettes into the back of his mind, then looked around the room, making sure Alexander stayed where he was.

  It was a rather small living room, with the blinds drawn and no light, natural or otherwise, getting in. There were bottles of what seemed to be wine and whiskey covering the small coffee table, but other than that, there wasn’t much proof that Alexander drank anything. _ Though he probably does _ , thought Thomas. There was a small tv on the door-side wall, with the couch on the opposite side of the coffee table.

  There was a strong smell of coffee, Thomas realised, now that his nose was getting used to being attacked by the multiple different drug smells in the air. That was the first thing that was going to change. There would be at least twelve different air cleaners, with six fans, and maybe a couple natural light bulbs. That alone would make a huge difference.

  “So, um, are you okay, or what?” asked Alexander after a minute of Thomas standing and staring at his living room. “My living room isn’t this exciting, you have seen a normal living room before, right?”

  “Huh?” asked Thomas, looking back down at Alexander. “Oh, uh, yeah, I’m fine. I’ll see you in a minute or two, then?”

  “Yeah, just need to clean up a bit in my room, get some things done.”  _ Probably hide away whatever other types of additives he’s got _ , thought Thomas sadly.

  With that, Alexander went down the shallow hallway of to the left of the counter, going past what must have just made it as a kitchen. Thomas went to go sit down on the couch, but then looked at the blinds. With a second’s hesitation, he carefully pulled one the string connected to the pully mechanism of the blinds, making them open up a little. The natural light was a relief to Thomas, and he sat down right where the light was strongest.

  The allergies in the air were everywhere, lit up by the sun’s gaze, making it seem impossible for anyone with a slight cough to live here.  _ If this is the extreme that Alexander’s been living in all this time _ , thought Thomas with resolve,  _ I’m going to help him out of the gutter _ .

  With that, Thomas sat and thought, making it seem like he wasn’t planning anything. He wouldn’t want to make his new boyfriend suspicious, after all.

 


	2. Chapter 2; Bad Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas tries to put up air cleaners, while Alexander staggers in from his boy's night out with Mulligan and Laurens, the latter of which is wasted past common sense.

Thomas had been hooked to Alexander for a full two days and a half, and had finally found some air cleaners. It’d taken a while, especially with Alexander wanting to go with Thomas all the time and show him off as ‘my awesome new boyfriend’ to anyone and everyone, but he’d managed.

  He just now needed to hide the air cleaners around Alexander’s house, all the while dusting/cleaning it and taking out the additives from where he’d hidden them. He stood outside Alexander’s room, struggling with one that he was trying to fit underneath a lamp, while Alexander was out having a boy’s night with Mulligan and Laurens. If he could  _ just get the darned thing into the- _

  Finally the air cleaner popped into place, and Thomas sighed in relief. His next resort would have definitely let Alexander know something was up.

  He stood up from where he’d been crouched as he heard the front door’s lock jingle, then slam open.

  “Woah, Alex!” cried Mulligan, who seemed to be at least somewhat sober. He had apparently been designated driver. “No need to hurt the door, it didn’t do anything to you! Chill, we just went out to relax, Alex!”

  “Y-yeah, Ale- *HIC* -Alex! Jus… jus chiiiiiiill, *HIC* maaaaaaaaan!” slurred Laurens, sounding a thousand times more wasted than Mulligan.

  “You two c-can go fu-” Alexander’s angry slurred remarks were cut off by a muffled yelp, then a satisfied sounding hum. He seemed to be a very passionate drunk, and it might have almost been cute in any other circumstance.

  Thomas came around the corner of the hallway to see Alexander violently swaying, flushed faced, Mulligan trying to keep him upright, and Laurens, beelining it to the trash can in the corner of the kitchenette. Apparently Alexander had been given another bottle of bourbon to chug, while Mulligan laughed.

  “Just because the ‘tender cut  _ you two _ off doesn’t mean I had to stop ordering drinks!” he chuckled.

  “Are you sure he should have another drink?” asked Thomas stepping in. “You know the bartenders cut people off for a reason, and you, being his friend, should know that you can’t just keep giving someone non-stop drinks and think they’ll be fine.”

  “Oh, and here comes the party pooper,” sighed Mulligan, guiding Alexander over to the couch to nurse his new bottle of alcohol. “Look, he’ll be okay, I’ve been with him for so long, I know he can hold his alcohol a lot better than John, over there.”

  John was still heaving over the trash can, seemingly not having heard Mulligan’s remark.

  “That’s not much to go by,” commented Thomas, glaring at Mulligan. The scent of alcohol and vomit was now filling the room, and it was starting to make Thomas nauseous.

  “Thomas,” Mulligan looked serious, as he led him away from the two drunks and towards the back of Alexander’s house, “Alexander doesn’t want help. We’ve tried, believe me, we have  _ tried _ , but he just keeps going back. He’s such a deep alcoholic, and he’s got multiple dealers who give him his hits, you know what I'm getting at? I know, now that you two are ‘official’,” he made air quotes with his fingers, “you think you can completely shift his whole worldview, but I can promise you, he won’t listen. I myself have tried different things-”

  “Like what?” asked Thomas, probably more harsher than he needed to be. He was starting to get mad at Mulligan. He was going to help his boyfriend, whether Mulligan wanted him to or not. “What grand scheme have you thought of? How long have you tried to help him before you gave up, hm? Because I’m not giving up. I will help him, if it drives me out of my mind, maybe just to prove to  _ you _ ,” Thomas jabbed a finger into Mulligan’s chest, “that I can. Let me open your eyes to something, Alexander doesn’t want  _ your  _ help because you treat him like he’s wrong with every move.”

  Mulligan seemed taken aback, but regained his composure quickly. “You know what, Thomas? You need to just screw off. You and Alexander hated each other before, then,  _ suddenly _ , you ‘grew a heart’ and cared about him. I don’t believe you actually care about him, I think you’re just using him, digging into his mind and picking him apart like everything else you seem to do or have in your life. I’ll have you know that me, John and Lafayette tried for a  _ month _ to get him to stop, but he wouldn’t. I  _ know  _ him.”

  “Oh, you ‘know him’, huh?” Thomas shot back. “Then why couldn’t you tell if he was or wasn’t ready to do things, why couldn’t you tell that he didn’t  _ want  _ you to be so helicopter-parent-y, huh? He’s said to me that you guys use him as a freaking sob story, and he thinks you don’t actually care. You know what? I’m going to make  _ sure _ that he knows I truly care,  _ because I do _ !”

  Mulligan was almost squinting, he was frowning so hard. “You’re such a weak little b****, you know that, Jefferson? You’re so pathetic, you’re a little wussy baby bi-”

_ CRASH! _

  The sound came from the living room, and Thomas was immediately in the room. Laurens had finally stopped heaving, and had somehow thought it a good idea to tackle Alexander from behind the couch when he didn’t expect it. They were both now on the floor, and Alexander was screaming out swears as Laurens tried to get a hit on him.

  “Mother FU***R, son of a B***H! You LITTLE PIECE OF S**T!” screamed Alexander at the top of his lungs, his flushed face almost beet red, as he guarded against Laurens’ admittedly weak, drunken blows. He looked like he was about to explode.

  Thomas, in record time, jumped to beside them, yanked them apart, and pulled Alexander away from the floor, putting him onto the couch. “Laurens! The hell was that for?! You drunken idiot!”

  “Get you-your paws off me, b***h!” Laurens loudly slurred, when Mulligan came into the room after Thomas and subdued the drunken, curly-haired man. “Th-this is abuse! I-I won’t- *HIC* -won't stand for it!”

  “Do you see what I mean, Mulligan?” said Thomas as Alexander started a swearing screaming match with one of his closest friends. “I'm taking him to my home. You can stay in this pit of darkness and anger if you want, but I'm taking Alexander somewhere where he’ll be safe.”

  With that, Thomas picked up Alexander bridal-style, who was still cursing loudly and kicking with all his intoxicated might, and walked to the door.

  “Don't you dare leave with him, he’s our friend! He barely even knows you!” yelled Mulligan behind him, who was trying to both go after Thomas and keep Laurens where he was on the ground, away from Alexander. “You’re probably going to take advantage of him and then say you were stopped on the street, you sick f****r!”

  “I won't,” said Thomas over his shoulder, lacing his voice with venom, “because I'm not you two. I'm going to take him home, make sure he’s safe, and keep him away from drunken messes, which the pair of you seemed to have turned into. Now, I have a boyfriend to take care of and help, not that you would care, Mulligan.”

  Thomas left with a string of swears and offences coming from Mulligan and Laurens. Alexander seemed to have quieted, but had by no means fallen asleep. As he turned on his (honestly way too boastful) red Lamborghini Veneno Roadster, he sighed. Alexander had become completely quiet, and was now sitting beside Thomas as he pulled off of the road in front of Alexander’s house.

  “Y-” Alexander tried, before clearing his throat. Thomas stayed quiet for him. “You really care, huh, Thomas?”

  Thomas looked over at Alexander, who was staring straight ahead at the road. Thomas followed suit, it would be bad if they crashed.

  “Of course I do, I'm not inhuman.”

  “I noticed you bought those air cleaners,” stated Alexander, as though it was the most common fact in the world. Thomas winced.

  “I-I’m sorry, if you want I can-”

  “No, no, tha’s… tha’s fine,” slurred Alexander, seemingly only now to remember that he was still quite drunk. “I… I kinda like the… the amount ‘a effort yer putting into this relay-shon-ship.”

  Thomas smiled, and turned to look at Alexander again for a few seconds, before turning back. “Of course, why wouldn't I?”

  “‘Cause everyone seems ta want ta leave,” said Alexander. He said it with so little hesitation that Thomas felt the immediate and unquenchable need to comfort his boyfriend via intense hugging.

  Instead, Thomas opted for a more doable route while driving.

  He gasped with absolutely no sarcasm, which was a feat, then said, “Why would anyone want to leave you? You're very enjoyable on your good days!”

  “Yeah, but mosta my days’re bad days, can't do anything right. My papa left, abandoned my mum ‘n my brother ‘n I, we lost any funds ‘n savings we might’ve ever had, then my mum died ‘cause of sickness I brought to my family, and my brother went away someplace, ‘n my cousin committed super bloody suicide, ‘n the world must have a vendetta against me ‘cause it hates me, ‘n my friends aren't my friends ‘cause they all hate me, Angelica hates me, Eliza would kill me if she could, I don't even know Peggy ‘cause they think ‘ll hurt her and be a bad influence on her, Burr, I c’n see it in ‘is eyes, hates me, Washington thinks I should be in a mental hospital, I look an’ smell like a druggy, ‘cause I am, I reek of alcohol, I can't seem to smile anymore, not truly, I just- I can’t do anything right anymore, though I never could in the first place.”

  By the end of it, Alexander had broken down into harsh, ugly sobs that wracked his whole body, and was forced to stop his monologue. 

  Thomas was aghast at what Alexander had said. His father left? Is cousin committed  _ suicide? _ The fact that Alexander had made it this far was astounding! What had happened to make his roll of the dice so unfair?

  “A-Alexander, I… I’m sorry, I never knew,” gasped Thomas, his eyes wide and staring at the road ahead of him.

  “N-no one e-ever asks, i-it’s al-alright you d-d-didn't kn-know,” puffed Alexander, his eyes becoming red and puffy, matching his flushed face.

  “But it's not alright!” cried Thomas, squeezing the steering wheel with as much strength as a bear. “I need you to know this, right now, right here, Alexander, I will never,  _ ever _ , leave you if you don't want me to, okay?”

  “O… okay,” whispered Alexander, as though not quite believing Thomas. He looked extremely tired, and he suddenly lost any and all his young excitement he showed in class, instead seemingly aging sixty years in the span of a minute.

  “Alexander, I…” Thomas hesitated.

  “Hm?” Alexander hummed softly.

  “I…”  _ think I might be falling for you, I think I might love you _ , “just want you to know, I'll be at your side through whatever we go through together.”

  Alexander didn't respond. When Thomas glanced over, he found it was because the small man had fallen into restless sleep. He was moving at odd times, and his eyes were fluttering violently under his eyelids, but he was asleep.

  Thomas sighed, and as they pulled into Thomas’s huge estate, Monticello Manor, he thought back to his plan on cleaning Alexander up. This was going to take a lot more than just cleaning up. This was going to take a full on jumping the tracks of life, shift from manual to automatic, total makeover, whole change in lifestyle, kind of deal.

  But it would be worth it, if only to see Alexander truly smile.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoof, wow, I didn't expect people to like this fic so much! I hope I keep up to your standards on what I've just written, but if not, please feel free to, *ahem* scream at me, in the comments. Also, constructive criticism is welcome, and general feel-good comments are always appreciated. Thank you everyone who's given men kudos! 'Till next time!


	3. Chapter 3; Slow Burning End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas worries about Alexander, like usual, but also gets the feeling of wanting to protect Alexander. The smaller man goes to sleep, and Washington is called for various reasons.

Thomas had somehow maneuvered Alexander into Monticello without much incident. He hadn’t woken up, which was probably more due to his intoxication, and Thomas was sort of glad. He didn’t quite want to deal with Alexander once he did wake up.

  Thomas’s home was very rich, filled with expensive objects and antique items. There were gold chandeliers and ornate furniture. Thomas had filled his home with all the luxuries he could possibly get, and he knew Alexander’s thoughts on rich people who did that. Once Alexander saw Thomas’s home, took in his clean air (scented with lavender) and felt the smooth silver and gold surfaces, he’d scoff. But honestly, Thomas wasn’t going to hide away his livelihood just because Alexander couldn’t accept it.

  This was his home, his life, and Alexander could hate on it all he wanted, it wasn’t going to change.

  He set Alexander down on the couch, not wanting him to be too far away (in case he wakes up, he had never been to Monticello before this) and went to make coffee. Coffee had a soothing effect on Thomas, and with a little lacing of Château Rayas Châteauneuf-du-Pape, he’d be actually able to process what had happened that evening. It would also make him able to function ‘til past 2:00 am, at which point he might be able to convince Alexander to sleep.

  Both Alexander and Thomas had Debate Team the next day, so Thomas set a timer on the microwave to 1:00 am, making sure they'd both be able to at least get some sleep.

  Finally, Alexander woke up from his drunken stupor, a groan issuing from his mouth. Thomas peeked around the corner to watch his boyfriend, unsure how he’d react, and wanting to stay out of the way of any violent reactions.

  At first, it seemed like Alexander wasn’t going to react, for all he did was sit on the couch and stare at the floor. Then, he looked up and around, his breathing coming in quicker, shorter spurts, his eyes widening. Thomas knew that Alexander didn’t recognize his home, but he thought that it didn’t really matter. Now, Thomas knew that Alexander didn’t like being essentially kidnapped.

  “T-Thomas…?” Alexander said, just loud enough for Thomas to hear, while he started to stand up, holding his head in one hand.

  Then he very suddenly screamed, “ _ THOMAS?! _ ” and fell to his knees, head turned up to the ceiling, tears making wet streaks down his cheeks and off his nose. He looked so helpless, and Thomas immediately rushed into the room, not wanting to hear any more of Alexander’s panicked state.

  “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m here, you’re alright, I’ve got you, Alexander, you’re gonna be fine,” repeated Thomas, as he wrapped his arms around Alexander’s shaking form.

  Alexander melted into the embrace, and Thomas drew him in further, rocking slightly back and forth. When Alexander’s breathing slowed down a bit, Thomas drew back a bit, and brought Alexander’s face up to look at him from where he sat.

  “Hey, are you okay, Alexander?” he asked, concern written all across his face. How was this man the same one that, not even four days ago, had had no problem screaming his head off at Thomas, simply to blow off steam?

  Alexander shook his head a little, then whispered, “I thought you abandoned me, ‘n I don’t know this house, so I thought I got kidnapped while out, ‘n I got scared… ‘m sorry, Thomas, I shouldn’t mistrust you so, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m-”

  “Hey, it’s okay, hey Alexander, it’s okay, I forgive you,” mumbled Thomas into Alexander’s hair, “I don’t even have anything to forgive you over, you did nothing wrong, it’s okay. Alexander, you’re safe, you’re with me, I’ll never abandon you, I promise…”

  “Th-that’s what mum said, too,” whispered Alexander, pain in his voice, as he pulled out of Thomas’s arms, sitting up right, “but… I’m going to hold you to that, ‘kay?”

  “M’kay,” said Thomas with a smile, “I’ll stand by you through whatever you need me to be by you with, promise.”

  Alexander closed his eyes, then nodded slowly. “H-hey, Thomas?”

  “Mh-hm?”

  “D’you think we could call in sick? I don’t feel all that good, ‘n I won’t be able to work with a hangover, ‘n I don’t wanna be alone tonight or tomorrow…”

  Thomas snorted and smiled. Well, that changed his plans. “Yeah, sure, darlin’. I’ll do that in the morning. Right now, though, I think you need an Advil, some water and a bed, that sound okay?”

  Alexander hesitated, then he turned away from Thomas, shaking his head a tad. “W-well, you’re missing one thing that I always do after I go drinking. Hercules usually gets it for me, he don’t really care if I actually use it or not, which I always do. It quiets my mind, makes me able to go to sleep.”

  Thomas frowned a bit, then asked, “What is it, Alexander? If it’s medication, I can get you some from the drugstore just down the way.”

  Alexander sighed, then put his forehead in his palm, telling Thomas that Alexander had just received a bad wave of headache pain. “I-it could be called medication, I guess. It’s a mix of two things. I’m not sure you’d let me get them, though.”

  Thomas’s frown deepened. “What is it?”

  “I call it the Slow-Burning End. It’s a cigarette wrapped in marijuana. I’m pretty sure I invented it.”

  Thomas gasped silently. Of all the things, Thomas knew he shouldn’t be surprised about a drug solution to Alexander’s hangover problems. Thomas could only imagine the smoking made the headaches worse, or  _ something _ worse, but who was he to judge? He’d never touched drugs in his life, never mind such addictive and dangerous drugs.

  Alexander seemed to flinch a bit, then said, “I-it’s okay if you don’t want to get it for me, I’ll just ring up Lafayette and he’ll bring me my hit. I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “N-no!” said Thomas suddenly, standing up off the floor. Alexander’s head whipped back around to stare at him with wide, scared eyes. Man, did it ever break Thomas to see Alexander so broken and hapless.

  “No,” he said in a calmer tone, moving his hand slowly to grasp Alexander’s and pull him up. “I-I’m not in good conscious letting you get high on dangerous drugs. Have you tried cigarette substitutes?”

  Alexander made a face, then shifted his face into a grimace, letting his head fall into one of his hands. He shook his head, then started nodding, groaning while doing so. “Y-yeah, yeah, I… I’ll try anything, I guess. Do… do you mind if we call in sick? I can’t work on a hangover.”

  Thomas swallowed, then nodded with a smile, and said, “Hey, let me get you some Advil and water, and I’ll lead you to the guest room, alright? In the morning, to get you to stop thinking about stuff, I’ll call us both in sick and we can go somewhere. Does an amusement park sound okay?”

  Alexander’s upper lip slipped up into a form what must have been an attempt to smile, but what just added to the grimace he already wore, and said, “Yeah, I guess, yeah. As long as we don’t do too much.”

  “Of course!” said Thomas with a grin. “I’ll make sure you forget about any of your worries, I promise!”

  Alexander snorted, then said, “Sure, and while you’re at it, you might as well just simply end all war in the world. Look, I’m fine with whatever you plan tomorrow, but at the end of the day I’m going to meet up with Laf for a quick few minutes, at the end of the block, okay?”

  Thomas frowned, then sighed, nodding. He should know that just one day of distraction would never get anyone off of addictions. It could take years, especially considering how deep Alexander was in. But they would get there, and until they did, Thomas promised himself not to give up on Alexander, like his friends did, no matter what happens.

  Thomas escorted Alexander to a bedroom, when Alexander said he needed some rest. Thomas made sure that the room didn’t have a very wide window that Alexander could hop through and go out to get a drag; he wanted to keep Alexander away from drugs and alcohol for as long as possible. Not that he thought Alexander actually wanted to do such an activity like jumping out a window.

  Thomas then made his way to his own bedroom, picking up the landline one the way, knowing full well that even though he and Alexander were ‘together’, Alexander needed space and time to loose all the alcohol that still flooded his system. That was fine, they had a whole day together.

  He dialed the college, and the secretary, surprisingly, picked up.

  “Hello, this is Columbia University, Samuel Seabury speaking, how may I help you?”

  “Uh,” Thomas started gracefully. “Um, hi, this is Thomas Jefferson? I’m calling on behalf of myself and Alexander Hamilton? He’s, uh, he got hit with a sickness, and he needs tomorrow off, and none of his friends are available.”

  There was a couple moments of silence on the other end of the line, then Seabury said, “Well, I think you should talk to Washington about that, alright? I’ll put you through to him in a second, ‘kay?”

  Thomas rolled his eyes. “Yeah, alright, Mr. Seabury.”

  Waiting music came on, as Thomas waited for Seabury to call Washington, and Thomas silently went back to Alexander’s room. He knew he probably shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t really help himself. He wanted to make sure Alexander was actually resting well, and wanted to know if he wasn’t and needed something.

  When he peaked into the smaller bedroom, he saw Alexander’s face, eyes closed, mouth slightly open. He was drooling slightly, and a small snore rolled around the room, almost too soft to hear. Thomas smiled. Alexander was precious when comfortable.

  He closed the door again, then started his walk back to his own room when the line finally connected again, and Washington picked up. “Hello, this is George Washington, who may I be speaking to?”

  Thomas once again rolled his eyes before answering. He should have known that Seabury didn’t give names when he called Washington. “Hello, Mr. Washington, this is Thomas Jefferson. I’m calling both myself and Alexander Hamilton in sick, because he came down with something, and his friends are unavailable.”

  Thomas thought for a second about how much more easier it was to talk to Washington than anyone else in their college, as Washington gave a small chuckle from the other end, sounding extremely tired.

  “Yes, he does have a tendency to work himself into not being able to function. Yeah, you two can have the day off, I know you wouldn’t call in without a good reason,” replied Washington, sounding as though he was just barely battling off sleep. Thomas smiled slightly, then thought of something.

  “Hey, Mr. Washington, I have something to ask you about.”

  “Hmm?” Washington hummed. “Well, go for it. I’ll answer to the best of my ability, though I’ll tell you right now, if it’s something about math, I’m not the best, and it’s 12:30, so my brain isn’t at top functionality.”

  Thomas smiled again, then said, “No, sir, it’s not about that. I… I just wanted to know if you knew about Alexander’s more personal life. So… do you?”

  After couple seconds of silence, there came a rustling from the other end, then Washington’s voice came back in. “No, I don’t believe I do. Do you have something you want to inform me about, Thomas? Something I should step in on?”

  Thomas swallowed, looked around the hallway he stood in, just outside his room, then continued. “Well, I’m not sure if you should step in, because he’s told no one except me and, like, three of his friends, from what I can tell.”

  Washington hummed for a second, then said, “Thomas, let me assure you that nothing you ever say to me, if it’s private, will ever be told to anyone except people you yourself choose to tell. And if you want me to step in, but you’re scared that Alexander, or people he knows, will hate you if they find out that it’s you who told, I am completely able to keep you anonymous. You can always,  _ always _ come to talk to me, I’m always willing to listen. Okay?”

  Thomas swallowed again, still not completely sure, then said, “Yes, sir.”

  Washington chuckled again, relieving some of Thomas’s stress, and said, “And Thomas, when it’s way past school hours, like it is now, you can just call me George, it’s no issue.”

  “Okay, um, George.”

  That earned another chuckle from Washington, who sounded like he was waking up a bit more, then he said, “So, are you still willing to tell me what’s happening with Alexander? Or have I managed to intimidate you?”

  “You always intimidate me, si- George, because you’re my teacher,” responded Thomas, not without some of his natural sass, “but I’m still willing to say. But anything I say, I don’t want you to tell anyone else, please, George.”

  “Of course,” George agreed with ease. “Now, what is it?”

  Thomas sighed, then spoke. “So, um, Alex has, um, been into, uh…  _ things _ , you know, like… like drugs and alcohol, for a while now. He, um, uses stuff to relieve his tension, and I think that’s why he’s so able to stay awake for so long and get everything done so quickly. He’s been using some hard stuff, like marijuana, and he’s not willing to come off of any of it soon, not really. He, uh, the sickness, that I called about in the first place, well… he, Laurens and Mulligan got wasted just before they went home to his place, he’s at Monticello with me, here, now. Or, at least, Laurens and Alexander got wasted, Mulligan was slightly drunk, but he was the driver, I think. Alexander has apparently been a pretty raging alcoholic for a while now, too, and I was kind of thinking that, if he somehow got into a really bad situation, he could cross his, uh, harder stuff with alcohol and manage to kill himself. I’m, uh, going to try and help him, but I’m a little scared, and I was wondering if there was anyone else who was willing to help, since Laurens and Mulligan are obviously useless. I actually, er, got into a fight with Mulligan, and had to then take Alexander here. I’m not sure if the Schuyler's know, but I’m worried that approaching them about it will lead to another fight, and Alexander’s already in a really bad place, both physically, for where he’s living, and mentally.”

  Washington stayed silent throughout Thomas’s monologue, and stayed silent of a couple seconds afterward. Thomas was almost scared that Washington wouldn’t believe him, but then the teacher spoke up again.

  “Thomas, I’m very glad you told me all of this, I… I had no idea this was going on.”

  He sounded almost defeated, as though hearing this about Alexander was an extremely hard blow, and Thomas guessed that it was. Washington considered Alexander a son, from what Thomas had heard, and to hear that you son was into hard drugs and getting hung over on the weekends was hard.

  Washington then said, “Has Lafayette done anything? Or Burr? I know that Lafayette and Alexander are close themselves, and if he’s not quite in the loop, then he could help you, help us. Same goes for Burr.”

  Thomas shook his head, forgetting for a second that Washington couldn’t see it. “Um, well, Alexander’s told me that Lafayette is, well… his, kind of like his supplier? At least for cigarettes. And I'm not sure about Aaron, Alexander just says that there's friction, though Aaron gave me the death threat when me and Alexander told everyone about our relationship, you know how that goes.”

  There was another silence from Washington, then, “I think you made the right decision to call me, Thomas. Is there anything more you want to tell me? Or anything specific that I should do? If not, then I can see what I can do.”

  “No, sir- um, George, that’s it. Thank you for listening.”

  “Of course, Thomas, anytime. I’ll see you on Wednesday. Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye, you too.”

  Thomas hung up the phone, then sighed. He finally opened his bedroom door, glancing around once more to make sure Alexander hadn’t heard that, then went to bed. Hopefully tomorrow would be more relaxing than that day had been.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOF next chapter's gonna be at an Amusement Park, and that's gonna be HARD AS HECK to write! To many bloody people on scene to do anythiiiiiing! Enjoy continuity while it's still hot, because just thing's are gonna go down, and it might not make sense! Thanks for staying on this train anyways!!

**Author's Note:**

> Woof, okay, this one will be updated even less often as Little Tailor Shop Down The Way, but I AM WORKING ON IT sorry people! This one's going to be my moody fic, so strap in people and enjoy the ride!


End file.
